


Canvas

by SABATHco



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Nudity, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-10 00:01:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3269171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SABATHco/pseuds/SABATHco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bull teaches Adaar a little about the Qun and his heritage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Canvas

Canvas.  
  
 **Characters: Kaaras Adaar, The Iron Bull.  
** Pairings: Kaaras Adaar/The Iron Bull.  
Warning: Adult themes, profanity, nudity.   
  
   The water was cool against the qunari’s thick skin, covered in grit and dirt. The what-used-to-be wet mud was now rough and dry, cracking and itching until it was dampened by the flow. How so much muck had managed to get under the Inquisitor’s armour was beyond him. No one else seemed to be as dirty as he was. But the privacy of the waterfall was pleasant, as was the quiet and the cool water against his humid skin.  
   Perhaps Adaar was being self-conscious, but he’d needed to get clean. He was surprised Dorian hadn’t mentioned anything—maybe he wasn’t as sweaty smelling as he thought he was. Dorian usually was the man to tell anyone when someone wasn’t up to par in his level of hygiene.  
   They’d set up camp just near one of the waterfalls in the Hinterlands. Before he left, he informed the crew what he was going to do. This meant they had to be on edge and careful whilst one of them wasn’t at camp. In all honesty, he should have had a guard while there were bandits running around, however, he was more than happy that he was alone.  
   With the small amount of hair on his head wet and flopped to the side, he arched his neck so the water could cascade down the side of his body. The flow of the water was peaceful, sending small tingles down his back and all the way to his thick thighs. The water was just waist deep, giving him enough privacy to not feel so vulnerable out here in the open.  
   Everyone had to do it. As a mercenary, he’d been in worse situations. The luxuries of Skyhold weren’t everywhere in Thedas. The Hinterlands provided crystal clear waters, clean enough to provide good drinking water (still boiled in case) as well. As did the trees provide an excellent coverage for their camp.  
   Running a hand down the back of his neck, he let his face lean forward into the water, letting it fall down his nose, lips and chin. For a moment, the rush of water completely overtook him, the Vitaar on his face peeling away to reveal the much softer, yet stubble covered, skin.  
   The sound took over his senses, and he relaxed, letting his guard go. Right now, it was just him, in the cool water, feeling calm and refreshed. He was at ease.  
   His hands lifted, cupping the liquid and running it down his chest. He made sure to let it wash over every inch of his body, being careful with his footing on the rocks beneath the water.  
   Ears twitching, he stood still for a moment. The hair on the back of his neck prickled, despite the water against him. His eyes opened as he felt the sense of being watched. A bandit? No, they’d have killed him by now. The humiliation—getting a knife in the back while taking a bath in the river. He could feel his heart beginning to beat harder, starting to pound in his ears. His fingers twitched, ready to use magic if he had to.    
   Then there was something. Something familiar in the pace. “Bull…?” he questioned before looking over his shoulder. He breathed gently at the sight of the other qunari, his heart still thumping, though slowly going back to a steady pace.  
  
   “You’re getting better,” said The Iron Bull, a pleased look on his face. He’d been teaching Adaar some tricks from his Ben-Hassrath training. Simple little things, like listening and looking at the environment, the sound of footsteps, and how familiar they could be. Small things, but things that could save his life and the life of others.  
  
   The Inquisitor felt he should have been more covered, but it was just Bull. He stayed where he was, the water hiding his more private area. Despite the water being clear, it was still greatly warped from the waterfall.  
  
   “What gave it away? Or have you just been hanging around me too long?”  
  
   “Never enough of you, Bull,” the mage smirked. He eyed the brace on Bull’s ankle.  
  
   “Ah, yes, that. Cullen always does let me know I’m open on my left,” admitted the Tal-Vashoth. He folded his arms, taking in the sight of the naked Inquisitor. His skin was smooth now, clean. He’d moved away from the rush of water, though beads still dribbling down his body, down his stomach and into the water.  
   The Inquisitor was a fine looking qunari. The moment he’d seen him on the Storm Coast, he had caught his eye. He’d heard of Adaar, and seen some crude sketches here and there through the reports and notes that came through the Qun, but nothing really did him justice. He was a little more lean than his imagination had him thinking. Not as masculine as himself, but then again, who was? He still had a nice, broad chest and a good tone to him.  
  
   Standing awkwardly, Adaar felt himself swallow. “Was there something you needed?” he asked, not quite knowing what Bull’s intentions were. They were lovers, but he was still figuring out the other. Apparently he was much easier to read than The Iron Bull. Despite being such an open man, there was definitely a mystery that followed close behind him.  
  
   “I was just enjoying the view,” Bull grinned, a certain prowess in his voice. “Figured with the others distracted, someone’s gotta watch your back.”  
  
   There was a hint of ‘literally’ in Bull’s voice, and Kaaras watched him closely. How long had he been standing there? How long had he been watching him? It couldn’t have been that long. Besides, it wasn’t like there was anything really embarrassing about taking a wash under a waterfall. Bull knew what he had to offer.  
   “Well, if the others are distracted, does this mean you’d like to join me?” he asked curiously, a small twitch in his lips that made it all that more of a suggestion rather than just a common comment.  
  
   A hearty laugh came from the back of Bull’s throat. Oh, he’d like to join, but if he did, then he’d have Adaar screaming for more, and possibly catching the attention of unwanted visitors. Best leave that until later, when they really had more privacy and security.  
   He could see the Inquisitor’s clothes on the bank in a pile. He casually made his way over, feeling Adaar’s eyes on him. Picking them up, he slumped the armour and underclothes over his shoulder. “Why don’t you come out, Kadan? I’d like to teach you something.”  
  
   “Are you going to go run off with my clothes?” laughed the mage, although a little worried that that was Bull’s idea of ‘teaching’ him something new. He had no intention of running around nude after Bull, trying to get his clothes back.  
  
   “Hm-hm, no,” Bull mused. “When you’re done, then I will return your clothes to you.”  
  
   Done? Adaar quirked a brow, but he felt a certain urge to obey Bull. Whether it be in the bedroom or not, he knew how this worked. Bull was in charge—or there was an illusion of Bull being in charge. He looked around the area, just to check if anyone else was around before he started walking out of the water.  
  
   When the Inquisitor was close, Bull gave him a rough grab on the arse, slapping it. He got a pleasing gasp from the other qunari before he dropped the clothes. “Sit.”  
  
   “On the rocks?” There was a serious look in Bull’s eye, and Adaar sat, the pebbles and stones cold beneath his bare body now.  
  
   “You’re qunari, you can handle it.”  
  
   Bull unclipped his harness. “What are you doing?” questioned Adaar. It was bad enough he was naked out here, let alone Bull.  
  
   “Well, I figured if you’re going to get caught in your full glory, I couldn’t let you take all the credit, could I, Kadan?” The former Ben-Hassrath undid his boots and pants and slid them off, taking a seat in front of his lover. “Feel better?”  
  
   Actually, it surprisingly did make him feel better knowing that he wasn’t the only naked and vulnerable one out here now. But he couldn’t help how ridiculous this image may have looked. Two qunari, sitting cross legged on the bank of the river. If Dorian or Cole saw this…  
  
   “You’ve got nothing to worry about,” Bull murmured, taking Adaar’s cheek into his rough palm so their eyes met. He took the patch off, placing it on top of his clothes.  
  
   Adaar had no fear in looking at Bull’s injured eye. At first, it was one of those things you didn’t want to mention. He was nervous, in case Bull was uncomfortable about it. It’s why he asked Krem instead. He supposed the backlash he feared he may have gotten from Bull also made him a little nervous. Not as a fighter or the Inquisitor, but because he’d had feelings for him not long after they’d met.  
   Now, though? It was a part of Bull. It was a part of him as well since they were together. His curiosity was certainly spiked, though. Here they both were, sitting on the ground just after he’d already bathed, getting sand and dirt back in places where it didn’t belong.  
   “Well, you’ve got my attention,” he informed, sitting up. He tried to avoid Bull’s more enticing parts, clearing his throat.  
  
   A satisfied grin just creased over Bull’s scarred lips. “Good,” he stated. “Now, close your eyes.”  
  
   Adaar didn’t hesitate to obey, closing his eyes. There was silence for a minute, although it wasn’t silent at all. He could hear the sound of the trees rustling, the water flowing behind him. Was this what Bull was doing? Getting him more in touch with nature?  
   He felt the muscles in his face tense a little in thought, an eye opening. “Bull-,”  
  
   “Ahh.” The Iron Bull put a finger to the Inquisitor’s lips, hushing him. When his eye closed again and his face went still, Bull brought his hand back to himself.  
   “Good. You feel that? The light breeze against your skin? The small spray against your body from the water?”  
  
   Adaar nodded. “Is this something you do under the Qun?”  
  
   “Heh… no,” Bull said. “But each time you talk, I will be removing a part of your clothing and hiding it. You can ask questions later. Understood?”  
  
   It took little to no thought to answer. Adaar nodded once more, leaning his head back a little. Once more, Bull was silent, but the world around him was screaming with noise. With nature. With earth around him. His ears twitched a little at the senses, his skin prickling. There was still a sense of vulnerability in him, though, sitting here naked out in the open. A bandit or something worse could attack them with ease.  
    He must have given off another expression unintentionally, because he heard something being tossed away.  
   He sighed, opening his eyes. “Bull, I’m no good at this,” he said, seeing that a boot had been tossed into the grass a few metres away. At least it hadn’t been something more covering, like his pants, but still.  
  
   There was no sense of anger in Bull, nor disappointment. They’d been having these lessons a few times now. Kaaras was no expert in being a spy, but he had picked up and learned a few things. He just needed practice and patience.  
   Leaning forward, he picked Adaar’s shoulders back up, as well as his chin. “Well you’re not going to get any better with that attitude.”  
  
   “I’m naked…”  
  
   “So is everything else out here,” Bull stated, lifting his arms. “The birds, the bees. Naked. How were you born? Naked. It’s really not that bad.”  
  
   There was still that vulnerability eating at him, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand.  
  
   “You’ve got nothing to fear, Kadan. You’re qunari. You’re strong. You’ve got nothing to feel ashamed about,” he said, looking Adaar up and down. “Now, close your eyes again or I’ll be removing something else from the pile. This time, something more crucial than a shoe.”  
  
   Exhaling, Adaar closed his eyes once more, breathing gently and trying to calm himself. Again, there was silence from Bull, but he could still feel he was there. Without the direct touch, without even hearing his breath, he knew The Iron Bull was there.  
   Was this was he had been talking about? Seeing without your eyes? But seeing with your skin, with your senses, your scent. He breathed in, and he caught the scent of the blood lotus that was surrounding the area. Was that such a good idea? Would the exposure start affecting them?  
   He heard movement and something else was tossed into the bush. He mentally growled. _’Come on, Kaaras! Each time you question something, Bull picks up on it and you’re going to go back naked!’_  
   Gently, he inhaled, feeling the oxygen expand his lungs, his heartbeat obvious in his chest. He’d never really listened to his own heartbeat. Well, when he was in fear or running for his life, perhaps. But not like this. Not so… peacefully.  
   He was a living thing. He was surrounded by life. That was what Bull was trying to let him know. He was trying to let him feel the energy of Thedas around him. Being a mage allowed him to manipulate and use the magic of the Fade and of the world around him, but this was something different. This wasn’t magic at all. It was simply life.  
   For the first time in his life, he let go. He let go of the thought of someone finding them. He let go of the nervous trembling in his gut that a bandit would attack and he’d have to be at the ready to strike back. He was still alert, but at the same time, it was a different kind of alert. A feeling he’d never really had before. It felt so natural, though. Like he was part of Thedas he didn’t really know existed, but always had.  
  
   “That’s good,” Bull murmured softly. Well, it was a start anyway. He knew Kaaras wouldn’t get the hang of it within just a few days. “How do you feel?”  
  
   Adaar’s breathing was soft and slow, calm and relaxed. “Good,” he admitted, his eyes still closed.  
  
   “I thought you would.”  
  
   Kaaras opened his eyes and looked back at Bull. “What exactly does this prove?”  
  
   “It proves nothing. You’re not here to get a sense of satisfaction or pride. You’re here to feel one with everything that surrounds you. If you want to kill your enemies, you need to know what surrounds you. The depth of a puddle, the thickness of the trees, and how damp the earth beneath your feet is. It’s understanding.”  
  
   “I didn’t realise you could be so… down to earth,” the Inquisitor said, his elbows sitting on his thighs. Bull was a calm and collected individual (despite his excitement on the battlefield), but this was a whole new level to the man.  
  
   Bull shifted a little. “If you want to be a good spy, then you’ve got to understand more than your enemy. Besides, it’s soothing. Well, except the rocks in your ass… Would have been more comfortable in the grass. You get used to uncomfortable positions quickly when a spy, though.”  
  
   A small chuckle came from Adaar. “If this wasn’t something you were taught under the Qun, then why and how did you learn?”  
  
   There wasn’t really a short answer. But he knew Adaar was a curious qunari. He’d never make it in the Qun with all the questions he wanted answers to. “In the Qun, you have your place. You may not like it, but it’s yours.”  
  
   Kaaras knew this. And the both of them knew that Bull hardly acted like he lived by the Qun.  
  
   “I had that, but let’s just say it didn’t really work out and wasn’t really my thing. Working as a spy let me get more in touch with everything outside of the Qun. And I was _good_ —still am.” There was a small smile on Adaar’s face which gave him a sense of satisfaction. Tal-Vashoth or not, he knew he was a damn good spy.  
   “You learn from each other. I’ve taught things to my boys no one ever mentioned to them, and in return, they’ve taught me things, too.” Like how to value others. Under the Qun, you weren’t taught to love and have compassion. You were taught to survive and serve your purpose. To keep the race going strong.  
  
   Looking down for a moment, Adaar dipped his fingers into the damp pebbles. “Bull…”  
  
   “Yes, you have.”  
  
   “You don’t know what I was going to ask,” said the Inquisitor with an amused expression. Bull raised a brow, giving him that ‘let me prove you wrong’ look. “Alright then, go ahead.”  
  
   “You’ve shown strength, determination, and responsibility.” He huffed a little, trying not to make this more emotional than it needed to be. “And you’ve made this qunari understand things the Qun never would have taught him.”  
  
   Again, the mage’s lips creased a little. Was he proud that he had made Bull have such feelings? Part of him was, yes. All these years, Bull had never settled down. He loved sex with no strings attached. He loved giving others what they needed. He was openly pansexual, and ready to have anyone beneath him. Kaaras had been the one to make him choose just one, though.  
   They didn’t start off serious. For Adaar, it had been, though. The thought of Bull sleeping with anyone else after they’d had sex for the first time made him angry and jealous. But when Bull told him that since they’d started sleeping with one another, he’d stopped with everyone else, he was surprised, and yet comforted. Yes, part of him felt very proud to have been able to keep someone like Bull to only one person. More so, he was happy they were together.  
   All the Inquisitor knew was how to be Tal-Vashoth. He grew up with nurturing parents until he lost his father to bandits. He’d been the one to be the ‘man of the house’. He looked after his mother, he loved and cared for her. That was all he knew. He knew what compassion and hate was. He knew what vengeance felt like. Becoming a mercenary was just the beginning, a way for him to track the bandits who had killed his father. Being the Inquisitor? Well, something that just happened along the way. He never asked for that.  
   He was not in this for the thrill of the fight. He was in this because it was the right thing to do. For Thedas. For everything.  
   “I’m glad,” he finally said, looking back up. “Is there something else you wanted to teach me?” he asked curiously.  
  
   Actually, there was. Bull moved forward and took the Inquisitor’s hands into his own before scooping up some of the wet mud beneath the rocks with them. “Call it a qunari ritual. You’re going to have your own Vitaar pattern. Not what you usually have on your face. I mean for us. Together.”  
  
   What? Adaar looked at the mud on his hands. He’d just had a bath… He pushed that thought aside. “Your Vitaar is…? Special? I mean… for me?”  
  
   Bull chuckled. “Why do you think I only have it on when I’m with you—alone? Not like I could with anyone else but qunari. But yes, it’s special.” Paint or other things came in handy when it was anyone but a qunari considering the stuff was highly poisonous.  
  
   Well, he’d thought about that before, but he didn’t realise it was special, for him. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin, Bull,” he admitted, feeling a little sheepish.  
  
   “No, but you’re a qunari.”  
  
   “Does it represent something? Your design, I mean? Do I need it to be something special? I’m no artist,” Adaar laughed.  
  
   Bull took Adaar’s hands once more. “It’s a tradition to qunari, Kadan. You will feel it in your body, it’s in your blood. Vashoth or not, your bloodline was Qun once upon a time.”  
  
   The mage’s brows arched a little, feeling the wet dirt between his fingers. He tried to think of symbols he’d maybe seen from his parents’ home when he was a child. He tried to think if they’d taught him anything, but his whole life, he’d known nothing about the Qun. They were supposed to be his people, and he knew absolutely jack about them—besides what Bull had told him. It was almost forbidden to talk about in the household. What would his parents think of him being attracted to a former Qun member? Let alone a man? Well, not just attracted, but in a committed relationship.  
   “I feel stupid,” he said, his hand hovering with the mud on it. “Don’t I need… a mirror or something? Something to see what I’m doing? What if it comes out looking… atrocious?”  
  
   Bull chuckled. “You’re far from stupid. As for a mirror, I am your mirror. My body is your canvas. Now paint.”  
  
   This time, there was something a little more commanding in Bull’s voice. He moved his fingers into the rocks before him, getting more mud before he slowly and cautiously moved his fingers to Bull’s chest.  
   All he could see and remember was Bull’s own Vitaar. But this was meant to be something personal for him. Well, them, really. He wasn’t just going to replicate what Bull had. Whatever the symbols Iron Bull put on his body, they obviously meant something personal to him—to their relationship.  
   Moving his fingers up, he made a swirl. The more he used the rough, masculine canvas, the more natural it felt. The wet moisture on the tougher hide. The way it moved and bled into the pores of his skin. Suddenly, he didn’t feel stupid at all. He felt a familiarity with it all.  
   Soon, Adaar didn’t even know what he was doing; he just knew his fingers were drawing, dipping into the mud every now and again as if he were putting ink to a quill. A swirl here, a swirl there, lines here and markings somewhere else.  
   Bull was perfectly still the whole time, the only movement being his large chest to take in the air his lungs needed. Shoulders and arms were marked, and before he knew it, Adaar stopped, looking back. He hadn’t quite remembered how he’d done this, and yet it seemed like an image that would never leave his memory.  
   Looking at Bull, he took his hand back. It wasn’t half bad. But how was he ever going to replicate the same thing on his own body?  
   “Well…?” he asked almost nervously. This was something clearly personal to Bull. He didn’t want to screw it up.  
  
   Bull nodded. “Not bad, Kadan.”  
  
   “You didn’t even look!”  
  
   Another low rumble came from Bull. “I don’t need to. I could redraw the pattern with _both_ my eyes patched,” he smirked. “This time, you’re going to do it on your own body.”  
  
   But he didn’t have a mirror! How was he supposed to replicate something so… unique? How was he supposed to remember it?  
   He opened his mouth, but before he could object, Bull’s hand was up and moving towards his clothes again. “Alright!” he quickly said. He dipped his fingers back into the mud, having to dig a little further down and move some of the pebbles out of the way.    
   Before he put his fingers to his skin, Bull spoke again.  
  
   “Close your eyes.”  
  
   “Excuse me?” Adaar asked, eyes opening a little. Bulls hand came up and pressed gently onto his eyelids, forcing them closed—unless he wanted a finger in the eye.  
  
   “Trust me, Kadan. Now. Draw.”  
  
   Adaar’s shoulders tensed a little as he slowly brought his hand to his own body. He tried to remember what the markings looked like. Partial images connected, but he didn’t know if they were correct.  
   He huffed, frustrated at himself as he dug into the dirt again to fetch more ‘paint’. This was going to be a disaster. He would have stopped, but he was determined for Bull. He continued to paint the swirls until he couldn’t remember anymore.  
   He opened his eyes and put his hands down, both of them now covered in filth. Part of him was afraid to look, expecting a complete mess to be on his body. But when he looked down, he could see that he’d gotten most of what he remembered right. Bits here and there were off, but he was surprised at the outcome.  
  
   “Not bad, Kadan,” Bull spoke, looking satisfied. “A few more times and I believe you’ll have this down pat.”  
  
   Bull was encouraging, and Adaar appreciated every part of it. That was the thing with Bull, though, he was never discouraging. Everything he said or did encouraged you one way or another. Perhaps you didn’t see it to begin with, but further down the track, it would slap you in the face.  
   The warmth from the sun was starting to grow, and Adaar could feel the mud slowly attempting to dry. Parts of it had already cracked away from Bull’s body where he’d used him as a canvas.  
  
   “Now, next time we’re together—alone—you’ll use the real stuff, and you’ll have it down perfectly.”  
  
   “What?” That surprised the Inquisitor. He looked down at himself.  
  
   Bull chuckled. “Consider it a reward,” he grinned. “Until you perfect your Vitaar, then you won’t be riding The Bull.”  
  
   That was…! Adaar frowned. He would do it again and again until it was perfect. He went to dip his hands into more of the mud, but Bull took his wrist, making their eyes meet.  
  
   “Not now. You’ve got enough dirt on you. Go get yourself cleaned up. When we return to Skyhold, then I’ll get you the real stuff. The _good_ stuff. And you can practice again.”  
  
   “H-how will I remember this?” the mage asked. “I don’t even know how I managed to replicate it this well. I don’t even know how I did it on you…!”  
  
   The older qunari just smiled. “You’ll learn.” Of that, he was positive. “Come on, let’s get this crap off.” He stood up, making his way into the water. Adaar followed and he pulled him closer to him, gripping his plump behind.  
   “Mmm, watching you paint like that was good, Kadan,” he rumbled, putting his now wet hand to Kaaras’ cheek. He leant in, giving the Inquisitor a rough kiss, the water getting deeper.  
  
   Adaar moaned, pressing into the other lips. His hands went beneath the water, gripping Bull’s hips. “Bull…” he murmured needily, his breath shaken.  
  
   The warrior leant back, pressing their foreheads together. “Hm, perfect that Vitaar and then I’ll give you what you want.”  
  
   Adaar gasped as he was groped, biting his lower lip. Everything in him wanted to pull Bull back when he broke away from him, begging him to take him here in the open water, but he stayed silent. He was afraid if he said anything, he’d come there and then.  
  
   Bull washed himself free of the mud before he walked back out of the water, putting his clothes back on before covering his eye socket. “C’mon, I’ll get your boots.”  
  
   Washing the dirt from himself, the Inquisitor stepped back out of the water when he was clean gain and grabbed the clothes that Bull hadn’t tossed away. He held his hand out as Bull collected his shoes.  
  
   “Ah, no. You’re walking back barefoot.”  
  
   “Bull!” Kaaras complained. “You’re not serious about back there, are you?”  
  
   Taking the laces and flipping them over his shoulder, Bull smirked. “Oh yeah.”  
  
   Looking at the rocks and other potentially sharp objects on the ground, Adaar frowned. This was one of those moments when later on he’d thank Bull… he just wasn’t going to right now.  
   He followed the other qunari, carefully trying to avoid things that could possibly stab him in the feet. The journey back to the camp was going to be slow and probably painful. But worth every part of it.

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted my Adaar to get in touch with his qunari heritage. Also I've just headcanonned that Bull's sex tatts are special vitaar.


End file.
